


Five Times Stiles Ended Up in the Closet (+ the One Time He Wasn't)

by WhisperedWords12



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, First Kiss, M/M, Season 2, Spin the Bottle, The most overused trope in the world, Trapped In A Closet, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 11:36:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9655658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperedWords12/pseuds/WhisperedWords12
Summary: Why was it always Stiles? Why was it always Derek? Why was it always a closet? Oh course, it had to be all of these things.





	

1.

Stiles' shoes squeaked as he slid to a stop, looking around frantically as footsteps echoed behind him.

A body slammed into him. He would have been thrown to the ground had it not need for a hand on his collar, keeping him balanced.

"Stiles, what the hell?" Derek hissed.

Stiles wasn't listened, fumbling around blindly in the dark. "You know, it would be a lot easier if the guy with actual night vision looked for the door."

"What are you looking for? We gotta go."

"No, we have to _hide_ ," Stiles stressed, fingers sliding along the wall.

Derek sighed and grabbed Stiles' hand, guiding it to the knob. "This is a bad idea." He said as Stiles worked the door open.

Whatever room he'd found was about as dark as the hallway they were in. Stiles couldn't make out anything.

"Can we move on please? We'd finally gained some ground, but you've probably lost us that by now."

Sure enough, footsteps could just be made out in the distance. Stiles turned his head in the direction of the sound, thinking.

Derek sighed, grabbing Stiles' arm and dragged him into the room. When Stiles tried to protest Derek shoved a hand roughly over his mouth, reaching around him to close the door.

It wouldn't shut. Stiles moaned in dismay around Derek's hand. He could practically feel Derek shooting him a look at the noise.

The footsteps got louder, floorboards creaking. Derek shuffled them around, pulling Stiles tight against his body.

Stiles' body went rigid. He took a deep breath, then allowed himself to be maneuvered around closer to Derek.

The door clicked shut. Stiles could feel Derek wince at the sound, though it was probably louder to him then it would be to Stiles or the witch.

There was a pause. The only sound between then was Stiles’ heartbeat and the footsteps. They both waited. After what felt like forever, Derek sighed in relief. His breath tickled Stiles' ear.

"Is that a the-witch-is-gone-and-we're-safe sigh or a the-door-closed-and-we-have-a-chance sigh?"

Derek sent a glare his way.

Stiles sighed, "The latter then."

Derek's eyes flashed in the dark. Stiles raised his hands in defeat. Or he would have if he’d had the room to.

He was suddenly aware of how close they were. Derek had squeezed himself in as far as possible against the back of the closet. If Stiles focused hard enough he could make out a broom handle that looked like it was digging painfully into Derek’s back.

And Stiles, well, Stiles was pressed up against Derek from head to toe. One of Derek's arms was wrapped around him as it—assumedly—held the door shut.

Stiles' shoes squeaked as he tried to move away from Derek to make room.

Derek's arm tightened, his other hand reaching around to pull Stiles closer.

Stiles' breath hitched.

Derek shushed him, but his thumb rubbing small circles into his back.

Stiles held extra still in the tight space. He hadn't known Derek for long but the guy seemed to value personal space. Pressed up against him now, Stiles would never have guessed.

"Just relax," Derek said, making Stiles jump again.

Derek chuckled, breath tickling his ear. A hand slid up Stiles' back, gripping his neck gently, pulling Stiles stiffly down to rest his check on Derek's shoulder.

It took Stiles a couple moments to relax, but when he did he noticed a change in Derek as well.

Derek's heart rate went down—and yes, Stiles could feel it beating against his own chest—his breathing evening out.

Derek's fingers rubbed Stiles' neck expertly, sliding up to tease his baby hairs. That's what did it for Stile, easing him down completely.

"Don't tell Scott about this?" Stiles whispered, face turned into Derek's neck.

Derek shushed him but Stiles could hear the smile in it. Stiles felt victorious.

Footsteps sounded lightly down the hall. Derek stiffened.

"Maybe they'll go away," Stiles whispered. His raising heart rate betrayed his words though and his posture became stiff again.

The footsteps got closer. Derek and Stiles both realized at the same time that it would be Stiles' back that was first exposed if the door was open. That made Stiles the most vulnerable person in this house right now.

Derek's arms tightened around him, trying to move them around but it was no use.

Stiles’ breathing picked up. He could feel Derek's claws growing against his back in anticipation of a fight.

Stiles tensed. Derek gripped the door handle more tightly.

The footsteps paused right outside the door. A gentle knock. Stiles frowned. Witches didn’t knock.

"Derek? Stiles?"

It was Scott.

Stiles let out a huge breath, slumping momentarily against Derek. Derek rubbed his  
back and released the handle, the door swinging open.

Stiles had never been so happy to see Scott.

Scott was frowning at them. At Derek in particular. "You couldn't tell it was me?"

Stiles shot out of the closet and collapsed against Scott. Scott took the movement in stride, patting Stiles on the back.

Derek was a little more graceful, looking practically bored as he climbed out. “All I could smell was cleaning products and Stiles.”

Stiles flinched. Scott untangled himself and stepped towards the closet, inhaling. He nodded, as if that answered everything.

Stiles shifted, “So what’s happening here, is she dead? Gone? Coming back any minute?”

“Gone, “ Scott said. “For now, we should leave.”

Derek nodded, gesturing for Scott to lead the way. When Stiles held back to let the two go ahead of him, Derek paused. He put a hand on Stiles’ back, ushering him ahead.

If Stiles flushed, no one was the wiser.

_____________________________________________________________

  
2.

“It’s a witch, Stiles.” Derek growled into his ear.

Stiles sighed, and pulled his laptop closer. “I know it’s a witch, just listen to me. It’s a particular kind of witch.”

Derek made an annoyed sound, “But what _kind_?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out!” Stiles snapped.

Derek was leaning over him, his chest brushing up against Stiles’ shoulder. Normally, Stiles would have shaken him off. Today he lacked the energy, letting Derek bring his arms around Stiles, typing over him. Derek’s chin brushed his hair, breath ruffling it lightly.

Stiles offered information, guiding Derek through his searching. Stiles didn’t suggest Derek take the seat and Derek didn’t ask so he assumed it was safe to just stay put. If he did move, Derek would probably make some annoyed sound and push him back down anyways.

Plus he kind of liked having Derek looming over him. Stiles didn’t know when that had changed. Usually he couldn’t stand the guy, but here it felt okay. He felt safer.

Over him, Derek hummed.

“What is it?” Stiles asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the screen. Nothing seemed relevant to their search.

He could feel Derek shrugging. “Nothing, you’re just quiet.”

Stiles blinked. “Huh.”

“Yeah,” Derek said, typing away.

They lapsed back into silence. Derek cleared his throat. “You should try using less cologne.”

Stiles stiffened. “Not everyone has crazy sensitive noses like you and Scott.”

“You’re drowning in it.”

“You’re practically on top of me.” Stiles pointed out.

“It impaired my sense of smell in that house.”

Stiles sighed, “Like I said, werewolf senses.”

“Women have sensitive noses too.” Derek mused.

Stiles sighed, giving up.

“I’m not saying don’t wear it, I’m saying wear less.”

Stiles just nodded, not in the mood to argue.

Derek sighed. “I think I like you better when you don’t shut up.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Stiles said, but it kind of did.

Derek stiffened, looking towards the front of the house. “You’re dad’s home.”

Stiles jerked up, clipping Derek, who let out a hiss. Stiles mumbled apologies and fumbled around, hiding any traces of recent activity.

Derek frowned, backing off and rubbing his jaw where Stiles had hit him. “What are you doing?”

“It’s a school day, my dad will kill me if he finds out I’m home.”

Derek looked unfazed. “Great so we leave through the window.”

Stiles grabbed his backpack and tossed it to Derek, who caught it easily. “If I leave through the window I break a leg.”

“So what do we do?”

Stiles wheeled around, looking. Downstairs, the sound of a door opening could be heard. Stiles panicked, shoving at Derek until they were both crammed into his closet.

Derek sighed, allowing himself to be pushed around.

“Stiles?” his dad called from downstairs.

Stiles stiffened and worked the closet doors closed.

Derek sighed again.

Stiles shot him a look, “Will you stop that?” he hissed.

Footsteps sounded up the stairs. Stiles froze. Derek reached up, putting a hand reassuringly on Stiles’ elbow.

This closet was larger then the last at least. He was close enough to feel the intense body heat all of the werewolves seemed to put off, but he wasn’t pressed up against Derek this time.

Stiles’ father opened the bedroom door quietly. Stiles was sure that this would be as far as his father would go.

Obviously he would be wrong though. The Sheriff took a step into the room, making Stiles freeze. Derek rubbed circles into his elbow and Stiles instinctively moved closer to him, swallowing.

They both winced as the floorboard creaked beneath him.

Silence filled the room. The Sheriff took a hesitant step towards the closet.

Stiles froze. He looked over at Derek, who was wearing a similarly worried expression.

His father took another step, coming closer still.

Derek’s fingers stilled, gripping now instead. Stiles’ heart rate tripled.

The Sheriff paused just outside the closet door. There was the sound of floorboards creaking as he shifted. Stiles held his breath.

“No…” Sheriff Stilinsky mumbled to himself, “No, you’re being crazy.”

Another pause.

“No, not today. Not today.”

The creaking of floorboards, this time away from them.

Stiles’ bedroom door creaked open, then shut. Neither of them moved.

Footsteps thudded down the stairs. The sound of the Sheriff’s car could be heard starting outside in the driveway and pealing away from their house.

Stiles sighed in relief, collapsing against Derek. Derek chuckled, thumping him heavily on the back before pushing the door open. The room was empty.

Stiles stepped out, dragging all of his things out with him.

“Scarier than the witch?” Derek asked.

Stiles laughed, “So much scarier than the witch.”

Derek smiled.

Together they set the laptop back up and resumed their little witch-hunt. Derek didn’t type over his shoulder this time, and Stiles didn’t comment if Derek’s face was a little too close as he read the articles Stiles found.

An hour later they had their witch.

_____________________________________________________________

3.

Allison and Lydia stood there, looking like they were expecting and answer. Stiles turned, shooting a glare at Derek. “Can I talk to you? In private?” He hissed at Derek.

Derek sighed, but swung his hand in a “lead the way” type fashion. Stiles excused himself and guided Derek away from them. The problem was there wasn’t really anywhere to go to speak in private. That was, until Stiles saw it.

He turned the doorknob and looked at Derek expectantly. Derek rolled his eyes, “Stiles, are you serious?”

“Do I look serious to you?” Stiles asked.

“You rarely look serious,” Derek said, but climbed into the closet. “We need to stop this though.”

“I agree,” Stiles said. He smiled at the girls, who were looking at them in disbelief, and went in after Derek, letting the door click shut behind them.

Derek looked unimpressed. “What?”

“We can’t just tell them there’s a witch running around, they’re still a little freaked from everything else that’s happening.”

“When has it ever been a good idea not to let someone in on something?” Derek asked dryly.

Stiles shot him a look.

“Didn’t think so,” Derek mussed. “So I’m going out there and telling them what’s happening.”

Stiles paused, thinking. “Okay,” he said finally.

Derek nodded and reached for the door handle. “Um, Stiles?”

“Yes Derek.”

“There’s no doorknob.”

Stiles spun around. In the close proximity, he accidently rubbed along Derek, trying not the think about it too hard as Derek hissed at the contact. Stiles let his hands trail blindly along the door. Nothing.

He knocked. “Um, Lydia? Alison? Let us out please?”

Silence.

He banged harder. Behind him, Derek sighed. Stiles turned to swing a glare his way. He couldn’t make anything out, but he imagined Derek was glaring back.

Stiles tried turning again when Derek’s hands suddenly gripped his hips tightly. Stiles frowned, arching an eyebrow at Derek. Derek sounded a little breathless when he said, “Stiles. You have to stop moving.”

Stiles’ frown deepened. “Why?”

There was a pause. Derek sighed, “This is too tight a space for you to be shifting around like that.”

“What do you mean? I’m trying to get us out of here—oh.” Stiles blushed.

“Yeah.” Derek said, sounding unimpressed.

“Oh, my bad.” He turned back towards the door, drawing another hiss out of Derek.

“Stiles, I told you to—“

“Yes, sorry, I’ll stop I just had to—“

“You’re moving again now!” Derek snapped.

“Sorry,” Stiles winced.

“Just stop—“

The door creaked open, a very concerned looking Allison standing there, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “Everything okay here?” she asked.

Stiles jumped out of that closet so fast, distancing himself from Derek, blushing furiously.

Allison looked between the two of them.

“I don’t want to know,” she said finally. “What I do want is for you to tell us about this thing we’re hunting.”

Derek sighed and pulled himself from the closet. He shot a glare at Stiles, who was looking anywhere but at Derek.

Derek turned back to Allison. “It’s a witch…” he began.

Stiles tried to listen, he did. But every time he looked at Derek he blushed, thoughts going back to the closet and what he could have done differently. Heat pooled in his stomach each time, making him blush. To make matters worse, by the way Derek was discreetly smelling the air, Stiles was sure Derek could smell it on him.

Stiles ducked his head, taking a moment to walk away from them to calm himself down. He could feel Derek’s eyes on him the whole time.

_____________________________________________________________

4.

It was Derek's place and Derek's rules, but he still let the pack drink at his place, even when he wasn't home. He said it was better that they do it here then out at a bar in public.

They were all bordering on tipsy when Derek got home, everyone turning to look in the direction of the door. Assumedly the wolves could hear him approaching but the only way Stiles was able to tell was when Derek turned the corner, pulling off his coat.

He wore his usual unimpressed face as he took them all in, sitting there in a circle. He said nothing, just shook his head and headed to the kitchen.

Erica watched him go with laser focus, rolling an empty beer bottle in her hands. She turned to them. "Spin the bottle?" She said, grinning as she shook the bottle. A couple people hooted. Scott rolled his eyes and scooted closer to Allison, who was grinning over at him.

"Stop being babies, you don't have to make out, just kiss." Erica said, placing the bottle in the middle.

There were a couple last grumbles, but they were mostly complaints about the immaturity of the game. Erica grinned, knowing she had won.

A couple interesting things happened. Erica made out with Boyd to no one's surprise. Isaac kissed Scott shyly while Allison cheered them on. Scott spun and got Stiles, who grinned and pulled Scott down for a quick peck. Scott pretended to swoon.

Erica yawned and grinned dangerously. "I've got an idea. I'm going to spin twice. The two people it lands on have to go spend seven minutes of heaven in the closet of shame."

Everyone laughed.

Erica grabbed the bottle and spun. It whipped around a couple times before finally slowing and landing squarely on... Stiles.

A couple people cheered. Isaac looked like he was praying the next spin wouldn't land on him.

Erica smiled and spun it again. It turned then slowed. It pointed towards Isaac… then Boyd… then Erica, finally slowing down to fall on the spot between Scott and Erica...directly on Derek. Stiles hadn’t seen him come in, he’d seemingly paused to watch quietly in the background.

Stiles paled. He tried to smile. "Looks like I'm off the hook, didn't land on anyone."

Erica turned to look at Stiles deviously, "No, you got Derek, sweetheart."

"Who isn't playing." Stiles forced himself to sound calm. He was in a room full of wolves though. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

Behind her, Derek raised an eyebrow.

Erica turned to look at Derek. Derek’s eyes were fixed on Stiles.

Derek sighed, lifting a hand in gesture of his bedroom. Stiles swallowed, pushing himself up to follow Derek on unsteady legs.

A couple people wolf whistled after them. Stiles shot Erica a dirty look, who winked back at him and stood.

Stiles frowned, “You don’t have to follow us.”

Erica smiled. “Someone’s gotta make sure you boys do it right.”

Derek turned slightly, never breaking stride. “You can go, Erica.”

Erika pouted, but stopped. “In the closet.” She reminded them.

Derek waved her off.

Stiles stuck out a tongue at Erica, who bared her teeth at him.

A hand on his back startled Stiles back into the moment, his heartbeat tripling.

“Relax,” Derek said, guiding him forwards. “I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Stiles sucked in a steadying breath. He nodded.

Derek led him into his bedroom. “Is this enough?” Stiles asked. He knew Derek could tell how nervous he was.

“In the closet!” Erica sing songed from down the hall.

Derek sighed and crossed the room, opening the closet. Stiles’ palms were sweaty when he crossed the room, watching Derek carefully. Derek appeared as calm as usual, his composure almost bored.

Stiles pushed back a layer of coats, stepping inside. He turned quickly, his back pressing up against the wall as Derek stepped in, sliding the door shut behind him.

Stiles flinched at the noise that was made when Derek pushed more hangers aside, making room.

He jumped as a hand touched his hip. He breathed a shaky laugh as he felt Derek shift. Derek hummed, much closer than Stiles expected.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Derek said quietly, “but the pack will be able to smell us.”

Stiles nodded, lifting his hands up to fist them in Derek’s shirt. Derek wrapping around Stiles’ body, drawing him in against his chest. Stiles’ breath hitched as Derek pulled their bodies together, running a hand along his back.

Derek’s fingers trailed up, into Stiles’ hair, tugging gently. Stiles couldn’t help the sound that escaped him, a cross between a moan and a whimper.

“This is kind of a nice thing to come home to…” Derek mused.

“Nice?” Stiles squeaked.

“Yes, Stiles. Nice.” Derek said, his breath ghosting across Stiles’ lips.

It was just light enough in the space that Stiles could make out the outline of Derek’s face. “Have you never kissed anyone before?” Derek asked quietly.

“I’ve kissed people before. Plenty of people.” Stiles snapped back, voiced hushed.

Derek chuckled. Stiles could feel it through his chest, making heat pool in his stomach. “Okay.”

“I have,” Stiles pouted.

“I believe you.”

“Just not… boys.”

“You kissed Scott,” Derek pointed out.

Stiles chuckled, “Yeah, just a tiny one. We did that when we were younger too. I convinced Scott to let me try.”

Derek chuckled, dragging Stiles closer. Stiles’ breath caught as Derek’s nose brushed along his jaw. He shivered.

“Another short one?”

Stiles nodded as Derek nosed at his ear.

“Well how about I show you how to really kiss a boy?”

Stiles felt weak. Derek seemed to be the only thing holding him up. Stiles was practically panting. “I’m a man.” Stiles joked weakly.

Derek laughed. It sent tingles down Stiles’ spine, making his head spin. “Sure Stiles. Do you want that?”

“Oh god,” Stiles moaned.

“Is that a yes?” Derek said, all the joking gone from his voice. “Because if you say no, it’s fine as well. But if you say no I’m stopping.”

Stiles shivered, licking his lips nervously. Derek’s hand slid up his neck to cup the back of his head, dragging Stiles’ closer. He could feel Derek’s breath against his lips, their noses brushing.

Stiles moaned, fingers tightening in Derek’s shirt for support. “It’s been a while.” Stiles felt obliged to whisper.

Derek laughed, “I know, you’re being awkward.”

Stiles huffed, but a small smile was starting to spread across his face.

“I’ll help,” Derek said, leaning forwards. When he got no objection from Stiles, he slid their lips together.

Stiles sighed against Derek’s lips, heat pooling into his stomach. One of Derek’s hands slid down, only to pause on his lower back before slipping down further to rest just above the curve of his ass. The other hand moved up to tangle in his hair, tilting Stiles’ face just right.

Stiles gasped as Derek’s tongue swept across his bottom lip, his hips stuttering slightly in Derek’s grasp. Derek leaned forwards, pushing Stiles up against the back of the closet. Stiles liked it. He liked the feeling of Derek’s lips on his, of his hand holding him steady and of Derek’s body confining him like this, keeping him safe.

Stiles wanted more. He wanted Derek to take more, to give him more. Derek must have felt it too because he nipped at Stiles’ bottom lip. Stiles opened his mouth, anticipating Derek’s warm breath mingling with his, the hot slide of tongues, the rough tugging of teeth on his lip…

The closet flooded with light, startling Derek and Stiles apart. Stiles winced, covering his eyes.

Derek swung his head, eyes flashing as he turned to glare at whoever had interrupted them.

Erica stood there, looking proud. “I thought I’d come get you. You know, considering how scared Stiles looked when I left you.” She said innocently.

Stiles could feel Derek’s fingers curling, gripping onto his lower back possessively. Stiles swallowed, flicking Derek’s hipbone in warning. Derek’s hand loosened and he turned back to look at Stiles, evaluating.

Behind him, Erica shifted. Stiles looked at her over Derek’s shoulder. She cracked a smile at him before turning to leave.

Derek looked pissed. It was only when she had left did he sigh, his expression softening. “There was so much more I could have taught you.” He said in mock dismay.

Stiles swallowed. “Another time then,” he said. His voice sounded rougher than he’d anticipated.

Derek’s hand was still fisted in his hair. His eyes flicked down to stare at Stiles’ lips. Stiles closed his eyes, taking everything in. The feeling of the hand in his hair, Derek’s breath on his lips, the hand just barely touching his ass.

Derek cleared his throat and stepped back, letting Stiles go.

Stiles opened his eyes, watching Derek back out of the closet. He followed.

Derek snuck a look his way. “You took my advice.”

Stiles glanced over, arching an eyebrow. “About?”

Derek smiled, “Your cologne.” Derek leaned towards him, making Stiles’ breath catch as Derek scented him. “I can smell you now. I like it.”

Stiles ducked his head, trying to hide his blush. “Yeah, well. I didn’t do it for you.” He said, picking up his pace.

Derek hummed.

Stiles could feel his eyes trained on him the whole walk back.

When they reached the living room, the circle had broken up. Stiles spotted Scott and quickly made his way over, not saying anything more to Derek.

Scott smiled when Stiles sat down, pulling his knees up to his chest and huffing. “You look like you had fun,” was all Scott said.

Stiles rolled his eyes, saying nothing.

Scott leaned forwards and sniffed. He frowned, “You reek of Derek.” He said.

Stiles swatted at him. “Why do you all do that? Don’t you know that it’s rude to smell other people? What’s with you freaks?” He whined.

Scott laughed and folded Stiles into the conversation he was having with Alison and Isaac. Stiles was grateful but was only half listening. He turned his head, scanning the room. He found what he was looking for immediately.

Derek was looking back at him, smirking.

Stiles flushed and flipped him off, turning back towards Scott.

He could swear he heard Derek laughing.

_____________________________________________________________

5.

“This needs to stop.” Derek said.

Stiles was pressed up against him, yet again in a tiny closet. “It’s not my fault. You should have been better at catching the witch.”

That comment had likely earned him a glare, but Stiles didn’t care. He couldn’t see it anyways.

Being trapped in the closet hiding from a crazy werewolf-hating witch with Derek was different this time. It wasn’t scary like the first time, it was annoying.

Stiles was up against the back wall this time. If they had learned anything since that first time, it was not to let the weakest person in the pack be the first line against the witch. Especially when the guy with claws was literally right next to him. That meant that it was just the wall, Stiles, and the hard line of Derek’s body keeping Stiles vertical. And dammit if Derek didn’t smell good. If they were allowed to smell him without it being a problem, why couldn’t Stiles smell them?

Stiles leaned forwards, inhaling discreetly.

Of course Derek noticed. There was nothing else to distract him in the dark closet. The witch was still wandering the house, but she was a safe distance away. Just not leaving distance apparently.

“Did you just smell me?” Derek said, smiling.

Stiles blushed. “Maybe.”

“You did,” Derek said with a laugh.

Stiles sighed, “Yeah, okay. You smell good.”

Derek chuckled. Stiles could feel it through the space where their chests touched. Derek leaned forwards, his nose trailing up Stiles’ neck, making him shiver. Derek stopped at Stiles’ pulse point, inhaling. He paused, then did it again.

Stiles shuddered, raising his hands to push Derek off him. He got halfway there then gave up, resting his palms on Derek’s chest, breathing heavily. Derek’s hips pushed up against Stiles’, pinning him to the wall.

Stiles’ exhaled sharply, breath stuttering. “Shouldn’t you be… paying attention to the witch?”

“We’re okay.” Derek said against Stiles’ neck.

Stiles rolled his eyes then jumped as teeth scrapped his skin. Derek laughed, kissing the skin there in apology. “We never did get to finish our lesson the other night,” he said slowly, testingly.

Stiles blushed. Hands gripped his hips, dragging him closer. “The witch—“ Stiles tried weakly but Derek just laughed him off.

“Forget about the witch, Stiles. I’m paying attention. She’s fine. She’s far away.”

Stiles nodded. His mind felt thick at Derek’s proximity. It was all very intoxicating. The way Derek’s beard rubbed roughly against his neck and jaw, the slow roll of his hips, their scents mixing in the confined space, Stiles liked all of it.

“I’ve wanted this for a while,” Derek said, his voice low and rough.

Stiles tried to think of something smart to say, but nothing came to mind. Derek didn’t seem to care. He moved back a bit, looking Stiles over carefully, eyes flashing. It served as a reminder to what Derek was, but Stiles wasn’t afraid. If anything, he melted further into Derek’s touches, his eyes drooping shut. This was Derek. He could trust Derek.

Derek rubbed a hand soothingly along his jawline, cupping the space beneath Stiles’ ear. Stiles’ breathing had become uneven, his body pliant. “This isn’t some kind of witch’s spell, is it?” Stiles said, only half joking.

Derek nearly growled. Stiles shivered. “Don’t turn this into something it’s not. You’ve wanted this for just as long as I have.” Derek said, sounding extremely confident.

It made everything feel more real for Stiles, made him feel more confident. “Longer,” he breathed.

“Dammit, Stiles.” Derek swallowed. “Does that mean—“

“If you don’t, I’m going to kill you.”

Derek laughed, bringing their lips together roughly. It was nothing like the first time.

The first time Derek had seemed eager to ease Stiles into it. He had been delicate and patient.

This time, he pushed them right into the next part, as if afraid to be interrupted again. Derek cupped both sides of Stiles’ face, licking gently at his bottom lip. Stiles moaned against his will.

Derek pulled back, smiling as he shushed Stiles playfully, leaning in to nip at Stiles’ pouting lip.

Stiles gasped, allowing Derek all he needed to deepen the kiss.

It was like Derek was everywhere and nowhere. It was partly a feeling of being connected and one of being held safe. Derek’s body pinned him to the wall, hands caging in his face. The thing was that whereas with other people Stiles might have felt trapped, his utter trust in Derek made this moment feel safe even with a freaking witch roaming around the rooms above them.

Stiles couldn’t help the sound he made when Derek’s tongue teased the roof of his mouth, flicking down to meet his own. Stiles let Derek utterly dominate his mouth.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours. It was probably only minutes, but when Derek finally pulled back, Stiles was panting.

Derek smiled, nosing at Stiles jaw. Derek seemed casual and unfazed, his breathing even. Stiles on the other hand tilted his head back against the wall, breathing deeply.

“So…” Stiles said between breaths. “Are we going to make this an actual thing, or is this something that only happens when we get locked inside closets together?”

Derek hummed, the sensation running up Stiles’ neck. “I don’t know, what do you think?”

“Derek!” Stiles whined.

Derek pulled back only enough to be able to properly look at Stiles’ face. “Yes. I think that we should.”

Stiles smiled.

Upstairs, something shrieked.

Stiles jumped, but Derek barely flinched, sighing deeply.

“The witch?” Stiles whispered.

Derek shook his head. “It’s always something, isn’t it?” he mumbled under his breath, more to himself than to anyone.

Heavy footsteps sounded overhead. Definitely not Scott here to save them this time.

_____________________________________________________________

(+1)

You really want to do this?" Derek asked, sighing.

Stiles tried to at least sound confident even if he didn’t feel it. "Yeah, sure. Of course."

Derek gave him a sidelong glance.

Stiles sighed. "Maybe I'll go in first, make sure he's not wearing his gun."

Derek closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "Good idea."

Stiles smiled, elbowing him in the ribs playfully. "Hey, at least you'll heal—"

"I don't want to get shot Stiles." Derek deadpanned.

"You're right, lets make sure that doesn't happen." Stiles said.

He turned and winced, spotting his father across the room watching the two of them quietly. With his gun on. Derek noticed him at about the same time as Stiles did. He sighed.

"What am I shooting someone over?" Sheriff Stilinsky asked.

"You talk to him first," Derek said quietly, putting a hand comfortingly on Stiles' back. "I'll join you when you're done."

"He doesn't love you," Stiles warned, lowering his voice so only Derek could hear.

Derek shrugged. "He should still know."

"Always the responsible one." Stiles grumbled.

Derek chuckled and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Stiles' head. In full view of Stiles' father.

Sheriff Stilinsky watched, saying nothing. Derek left then to go sit in the living room.

Stiles sighed and stepped into the kitchen.

Stiles' father pulled out three glasses and his thing of whiskey, setting it down on the table. He paused. Stiles said nothing. His father watched him evenly. "You know, it's when you're not talking that worries me."

Stiles smiled and pulled out a chair, sitting diagonal from his father at the table. He let his father pour out three glasses. "Will Derek be joining us?" Sheriff asked without looking up.

"Yes… but we should probably talk first."

"Am I going to like any of this?"

Stiles sighed, "I hope so."

Sheriff looked him over. "A serious answer," he mused. He picked up his drink and took a sip, looking at Stiles evenly. "Son, I think I already know where this is going, but how about you start."

Stiles hesitated, then nodded. “Okay then. I guess we have some stuff to talk about then.”

Stiles’ father smiled.

The sense of pressure lifted from Stiles’ shoulders. This was going to work out.

[end]


End file.
